


In Teaching Anarchy

by Iron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kidfic, prowl causes anarchy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron/pseuds/Iron
Summary: Praxians enjoy a close relationship between their police force and their sparkling schools. When Prowl finally gets the chance to present to a classroom of young sparklings, he doesn’t expect the reaction he gets.But then, who expects to give rise to the only Sparkling Rebellion in Cybertron’s history?
Comments: 20
Kudos: 59





	In Teaching Anarchy

There was something to be said for being allowed to shape the minds of young Cybertronians. Prowl had never been tapped for the duty before - the lieutenant had skipped his slot in the round the last time it’d come around, something about him being far too busy with open cases and, anyways, Brusquer wanted to take a second swing at the kids since he’d connect so well with them last time. 

Prowl was prepared this time. He’d closed the last case on his desk the day before, handed it off to the DA with the perp just about gift wrapped for her, made sure the mechs who actually liked sparklings were too busy to step up to take his spot, leaving him to only choice for the lieutenant to send. He’d planned it all out very carefully, for weeks. He’d written a script for what he wanted to say and brought along the appropriate literature to share with the more civil-minded sparklings. He had at least some intention to make the whole affair grandiose, and force the lieutenant to either grant him the chance to speak to the sparklings or state explicitly that he didn’t believe Prowl would make a good civilian contact point. 

That he wouldn’t is patently ridiculous; the creators in his apartment complex all agree that he is excellent with young ones. They even encourage the older ones to drop by his apartment if their creators need something from him. He has very much earned the approval of many a sparkling. 

The lieutenant is a tall mech, half again Prowl’s size, with cold amber optics and a non-regulation paint patch on his upper right arm. He stares down his nose at Prowl, seated at a desk piled high with reports and datawork, and makes him repeat himself twice before accepting his words. “You want to do the sparkling showcase.” 

“Yes, sir. I feel it will be most beneficial to the sparklings to hear from someone who works in forensic investigations.” 

“To hear from you, you mean.” 

“Yes, sir.” He _is_ the best forensic detective in the precinct, after all. Who else would be better? 

The lieutenant stares him down. “And no one else is currently available and willing to take your place.” 

“Yes, sir. I completed my work early in anticipation of going into the class.” 

“And I can’t do it because your closing all of your current cases has left me with datapwork to complete.” 

“It seems so, sir.” Prowl tries not to look smug. 

“Then I suppose we have no choice but to let you work with the class today.” 

“That is what it seems to mean, sir.” 

“Amazing.” He pings Prowl a datapacket about the school’s location and the lesson that was meant to be taught that day. “Don’t let me hear from the teacher, Prowl.” 

“I will be on my best behavior, sir.” He turns to leave the room, door wings held high and quivering. 

As he steps through the doorway, he just barely hears him mutter “that’s what I’m afraid of.” 

— 

The school is close to the precinct; Praxus was designed with the health and safety of its sparklings in mind, and keeping the police force close enough to respond in minutes to any emergency reflects that. 

It takes Prowl just a few minutes to pull into the school; even with the lieutenant requesting he complete menial datawork tasks before he leaves, he still had enough time to stop by his locker and pick up the materials he’d gathered for the sparklings. 

There are two teachers at the front waiting for him; one he recognizes from the park he frequently stops by to give requested assistance in battle-simulations, and the other is unfamiliar to him entirely. The femme who knows him smiles, though it is far outstripped by her companion, who claps her hands together and rocks back and forth on her heels. “We were so excited to hear that Praxus’s top forensic investigator was coming to our little school! I’m sure you have so much to teach the sparklings!” 

“I do,” he agrees, because he _is_ the best officer Praxus has and he’s not going to deny that he has much to share with the sparklings. “I brought material additional to the planned curriculum, as it seemed that sparklings this age should be well beyond the basic information the precinct required I pass on.” He flairs his doorwings, letting them flick proudly back and forth. 

The strange femme nods. “Of course! All of the officers add their own special touches to the class. I am _so_ excited to see what you have to share with us!” 

The other femme sighs, turning and motioning with her doorwings for him to follow her. “I’ll show you to the classroom, Detective Prowl. Please do not excite the sparklings.” 

“I will endeavor not to.” Not that he ever had; he was hardly the sort of mech that _excited_ sparklings. They would enjoy his hands-on discussion of how to defend ones self against larger opponents, and the lively debate he intends to start over their rights as civil members of society. 

The classroom he’s shown to is bright, decorated inside with primary colors and cartoonish pictures of crystals, bots, and atmospheric anomalies. The sparklings are not sitting at desks like he expect, but on a large carpet in the corner of the room. Sitting in a chair in front of them is a portly femme, cheeks round and optics bright as she stands up. “Officer! How glad we are to see you here. Come, come, I want you to stand next to me. We’ll have you sit down and give the sparklings their lecture in a minute. Why don’t you introduce yourself?” 

Prowl twitches, doorwings flicking erratically for a moment as the wave of her words washes over him. Couldn’t she understand that the polite thing was to allow him time to process what she’d said? He grimaces at her as he picks his way through the crowded classroom, stepping over diminutive desks and abandoned art supplies. It seems she didn’t clean, either. 

He stands at attention in front of the fourteen sparklings that comprise the classroom. They can’t be more than four or five vorns old - he wasn’t expecting that. He sorts through the data packet the lietutenant had given him. _Preparatory Level_. He... hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t prepared for it. 

He looks at their bright, open faces, most of them with the mesh-rounded cheeks of early sparklinghood, and makes a decision. 

“My name is Officer Prowl, and I’m here to teach you how to defend yourself.”


End file.
